To Fail, To Fall
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: "Potter! Potter don't do this!" the panicked voice pled, the terror clear in the tone and the widened eyes. "Please. Please, don't. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 _Written for Hogwarts Assignment 8, DADA, Task 1 - Someone using a neutral spell to cause harm._

 **Word Count - 827**

 **Warning for murder.**

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 **To Fail, To Fall**

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The taunts rang in his ears, the hissing followed him down corridors, and the fear in the eyes of the other students haunted his sleep.

He didn't want any of this. Why did nobody understand that he was a twelve year old boy who wanted nothing more than to just disappear into the sea of other anonymous students that were allowed to learn magic without being thought a murderer. Or a hero.

The fickle opinions of those around him made his anger soar. They opened up the parts of him that relished the idea of being behind the attacks, not to punish muggleborns for existing but to cause others the same pain that he himself had to face, just because he survived.

He held himself together, keeping the facade of a true Gryffindor; a mask he wore so well.

And yet, the hatred for those who ran from him grew. The disdain for those who called out to him in the corridors built.

To escape, he ran to the highest point of the castle, his invisibility cloak flapping around his ankles. He didn't care if he was being cowardly. To run and hide was his best defence against the growing need in him to lash out at the people who condemned him for a talent he had no control of.

He _wanted_ to hurt them, and it scared him.

Harry had always thought himself a good person. He'd always wanted to help, not hurt.

And yet the people here who thought they knew him because they grew up knowing his name were turning him into something he didn't want to be.

Daydreams filled his mind of screams and pleas. He saw the scarlet of fresh blood pouring from cuts he'd caused.

The Astronomy Tower filled him with a sense of calm, a sense of peace that he was denied anywhere else in the castle. He was alone here, truly alone, and it was… wonderful.

He was free here.

"Aww, is Potter hiding away from the nasty students?"

The silence was broken with a crash and a bang and a sentence that made Harry's blood boil in a second. He'd been so close to letting go of his anger, and yet it was rushing in his ears, making his heart pound a violent beat in his chest.

"Go away," he bit out, silently begging the boy to listen to him, because he was so close, _so close,_ to snapping.

"Poor Potter, everyone hates him for something _he didn't even do!_ Really, Potter, it's just so easy for people to believe that you could be the heir of Slytherin!" The boy laughed. "A Parselmouth, the defeater of the Dark Lord… nobody seems to realise that there's nothing _special_ about you. It's so easy for the sheep to condemn you."

"Go away," Harry repeated through gritted teeth.

The blond in front of him rolled his eyes.

"Really Potter, you're so pathetic. Roaming around the school like you own the place. You think you're so special, when really, you're nothing. You're less than nothing. One day, people will realise that and then where will you be? Alone and miserable, just like you deserve."

The sneer turned into a smirk, and the boy turned to walk away, as though Harry weren't worth his time.

And just like that, Harry was calm. The noise in his ears vanished, his heart steadied, his hands stopped twitching. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he wrapped his fingers around his wand and pulled it out.

The movement made the blond turn back to him, and when he saw the wand in Harry's hand, he grinned.

"Oh, are you going to fight me, Potter? Please, you couldn't hurt a fly!"

The taunt was echoed with a laugh.

A laugh that so clearly said that the boy didn't think Harry would do anything. That he didn't think Harry had it in him.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry murmured, his head tilting slightly to the side as he watched the boy in front of him levitate off the ground.

With a small flick of his wand, the figure was turning, spinning in the air. Harry felt his lips stretch into a smirk. He guided the figure through one of the windowless arches, stepping forward so he could see the drop beneath the figure held above death only by his spell.

"Potter! Potter don't do this!" the panicked voice pled, the terror clear in the tone and the widened eyes. "Please. Please, don't. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Harry nodded. "Sure. You're sorry now. Now that it's _you_ that's being terrorised. Now that it's _you_ that's living in fear. Why does nobody ever think about what their words, their actions, are doing to me? Why does nobody ever care that I'm a human too, that I feel the same fear, the same anger, the same helplessness?"

"Potter, I'm sorry. _Please_. I'm sorry."

Harry nodded. "So am I."

And he let the spell fail.

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 **Also Written for;**

 **Character Appreciation -** 30\. Gryffindor

 **Ami's Audio Admiration -** 13\. Hatred.


End file.
